


The Ballad Of Two Kings

by Kennzierella



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: (Canon Divergence), (Just going to pretend the Susan and Caspian kiss didn't happen for writing reasons), (Let me know what you think), (The Pevensie's stay one more night before returning back to England), Angst, Boyfriends in love, Crying, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Protectiveness, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennzierella/pseuds/Kennzierella
Summary: "Aslan," Peter practically bellowed out, his ocean blue orbs locking with the other's, "is there nothing we can do?"The Lion, though looking confused to all others besides Peter, who understood his father-esque stare, said, "whatever do you mean, my son?"Stepping away from the portal, with the back of Edmund's shirt wrapped around his fingers, the King uttered as calmly as his voice could carry, "I do believe that I, as well as my siblings, do not wish to leave Narnia so suddenly. If it be by your good graces, may we be granted one more night's stay?"





	The Ballad Of Two Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing to read my story. I know this is not a very popular pair, and some may find the combination distasteful, but I do hope you enjoy nonetheless. 
> 
> I have taken some liberty with the circumstances of the relationship, as you may see. As far as I know of, and please correct me if I am wrong, C.S Lewis made very little discussion about the stance on homosexuality that Narnia and its people had taken. Because of this, I chose to go as if it is condemned, or not strongly supported by the majority of Narnia's population. However, as time has proven, things must change; for the better and sometimes the worse. It is with this idea that I have framed this fic. Like I've said before, I do hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a comment! <3

There could never be a _Ballad Of Two Kings_.

 

No one had ever dared to write one; not in Narnia, surely not in England. But just because no one imprinted the words from quill to parchment, did not mean the ballad was not sung. Albiet, those who ever heard its lyrics, that being only two, dared not to sing its contents away from the privacy of their own hearts. What would the others think? Their fair and simple subjects, to whom they swore to protect. The mere shock would cause an uproar; very much split the foundation of the newfound lands. Courteous Prince Caspian and passionate High King Peter, the lovers of this never heard hymn. 

It was Aslan who declared it so, on that day of the Telmarines' defeat; the Pevensie children must be off and returned to their homeland. Returned to that merry, old England. Narnia's need of them was no more, certainly for the time being. Their work was done. Caspian used all of his efforts in order to cast a gaze that seemed of something strong and unaffected. He could not allow his walls to break down now. But it was not until he heard of the final farewell for Peter and Susan that he began to crack; they would never again come back to the lands of Narnia. The Prince felt tears prick at his eyes. Surely, this was some mere joke. Susan, and most definitely Peter, could not be leaving him forever. 

Peter caught wind of Caspian's distresses and anguish; he had been staring at him since the crowds had gathered. Part of him hoped that there was another way to all of this; that he would leave for only but a little while, and return sharply with his belongings and packages. He did not go to think that all of what Aslan had told him and Susan was true. That this would be his last day in the Old Kingdom, his last moments with the man whom he loved dearly. Surely, there could be something done to prevent his departure. He did not want to leave what was once his beloved home. Peter could not live with himself should he be forced to abandon Caspian.  

A nearby tree, with its twisting, snapping branches and rugged bark, took to Aslan's command for a fixed portal when the Lion called for it. The High King turned his attention away from the dark haired boy, be it solely for a few seconds, as the timber and trunk molded their shape. Where a grand Oak once stood stiffly, now, rested a door to the Pevensie motherland. Edmund, the Just King, was the first to begin the walk forward. Peter stood mighty behind him, quickly throwing his eyes back onto Caspian. One single tear slid down Caspian's semi-bronzed cheek. And in that, Peter heard all of the words he needed. 

"Aslan," Peter practically bellowed out, his ocean blue orbs locking with the other's, "is there nothing we can do?" 

The Lion, though looking confused to all others besides Peter, who understood his father-esque stare, said, "whatever do you mean, my son?" 

Stepping away from the portal, with the back of Edmund's shirt wrapped around his fingers, the King uttered as calmly as his voice could carry, "I do believe that I, as well as my siblings, do not wish to leave Narnia so suddenly. If it be by your good graces, may we be granted one more night's stay? We will be sure to keep out of trouble."

Uniting his own eyes with those of a decadent chocolate brown, Prince Caspian's very own, Peter finished with a begging whisper, "please, we will be on our most perfect behavior. I swear to it." 

Aslan's golden hues flew from one child to the next, making note of each expression. One was desperate, two were shocked, and the third, a boy who was being trapped and forced in place by a hand on his shirt, was completely confused by the request. "And I know you would be, King Peter," the Lion affirmed warmly. His sight of vision switched between that of both Peter's and Caspian's, his mind trying to put the figures in place. After a moment of consideration, with gasps from the crowd playing at his ears, Aslan spoke again. 

"My High King," said the beast, "I will allow your request for one more night in the lands of Narnia." 

"However," he said with pause, watching in a somewhat joyful fashion at how quickly Peter's smile and the light in his eyes seemed to dim upon his sudden halt. Just as he assumed Caspian's would, too. And that of which did. 

"Cair Paravel has been in ruins for hundreds of years, it would not be wise to make you go back to it," mused Aslan, finding his statement on the obvious to be quite humorous. "I will have you, Peter, as well as Edmund, Lucy, Susan, _and Caspian_ taken care of at the local Inn by the town's edge. It is nothing of extravagance, but I am sure it will do while the nation, and it's people, try to find their way again and rebuild." 

Aslan spoke further, directing his attention now to all the others who made up the gathered and speechless horde. There was to be peace among the Narnians and the Telmarines who wished to remain. There was to be no more fighting, and if such should arise, immediate action was to be executed. "This is now a time for prosperous peace," announced Aslan. "All of us, as brothers and sisters, should start the process of healing. Do not let the past keep you from finding tranquility today. As one, we will move forward. The generations to which follows, will look back on this moment as one of great strength and communion. Dear friends, go about your days. Let today be the start of what is now a universal rebirth."  

Once the Great Lion had finished, the intermixed congregation began to dismantle; each finding something to occupy their time with. Some went to find others of their family, a few went looking for shelter and somewhere to lay their heads. One or two groups searched for nearby taverns; places where they could get drunk and stupid for awhile. After sometime, only Aslan, the Pevensie children, and Caspian remained standing around. No one seemed ready, nor brave enough, to move. 

"Hey, Peter," whispered Edmund, who decided that it would be he who broke this slightly uncomfortable silence. "I think you can let go of my shirt now. We aren't exactly leaving anymore."

Peter let go of the shirt with a startle. He had not entirely been paying regard to his surroundings, well at least not all of them. The others, particularly his siblings, laughed at the goofy display. The High King blushed, for once not having a witty comment to fight back with. Rather, he stood there dumbly with his head hung low and eyes locked on the sandy stones on the ground. "I think you scared the life out of him, Edmund," Susan giggled out. Caspian chuckled at the banter, finding this sibling rousing to be absolutely entertaining. 

"But did he not look so _magnificent_ , _gentle_ Susan?," the Prince remarked, his rich brandy orbs gleamed. Peter couldn't help but grin at what Caspian had said, no matter how badly he wished he didn't. Caspian caught site of this smile, returning his own with the utmost affection. For a moment, with their eyes connected, each losing themself in the other's pool of color, it seemed as if the world stopped spinning. For a moment, it was just the two of them, alone and together. 

"Come on guys, let's go head out to that inn," said Edmund, drawing both his brother, and the other older male, out of their shared gaze. "I could really go for something to eat right about now." 

Edmund led the charge, his lanky shadow trailing not far behind him as he marched along. Susan and Lucy followed, sharing small talk and girlish squeals as they went. Peter and Caspian stayed toward the end, using the opportunity to be close and doting. Aslan did not join them, merely, he watched them as they faded off into the distance. 

**********

"Who knew there were such charming little inns in Narnia? I rather like it. Simplicity at its finest," proclaimed Caspian, once he was comfortable on one of the two beds the room offered. "How do you think Edmund is fairing?," Caspian asked some time after, fondly looking at Peter as he paced around the room, properly inspecting. 

Peter replied, turning to look at the Prince, stopping his current investigation, "he should be fine. He's roomed with the girls before, he can do it again. Besides, no way was I going to have any one of them share a room with us." 

"I needed you to myself," admitted the blonde, firmly defending his choice of everyone's roommates. There were only two rooms left in that woodland styled lodge by the time the fivesome finished their evening supper and drink. Each room had two beds, a dresser, somewhere to bathe and relieve, and a table and chair, should one prefer to sit in their room to eat. The rooms themselves weren't very large, but they could accommodate most human size guests. 'How about this,' Peter had said, with all five sitting around the circular table, dinners gone and chalices empty. 'Susan and Lucy, you two will room with Edmund. Caspian and I-,' Peter had not been able to finish, for the younger brother, that being Edmund, of course, piped in with a 'wait!'

Edmund inquired, his face plastered with a look of sheer horror, 'Why must I share a room with them? Why can't you?'

'I figured you would want to be near your lovely sisters,' Peter told him, in a somewhat sarcastic tone, not wanting to have to explain his reasons as to why he must room with the Talmarine Prince. 'They aren't that horrible, Ed. Plus, they'll need a strong, young man to protect them. Don't you want to be that man?' 

'Um, no, Pete. I'd rather not, not at the moment,' the Narnian King responded, not finding Peter to be all that funny, 'why don't you just room with them, and I'll go with Caspian? Come on.' 

Remarking with scoff, Susan said to Edmund, 'we don't need your 'protection' anyway. And for the record, only someone so immature wouldn't want to room with their sisters.' 

'I'm not being immature,' defended The Just King, 'I just would like to be able to sleep without hearing the choir of the snores beside me. And, you know how I get in the morning. Peter is better suited for Lucy's early morning cheeriness anyway.' 

'Why don't we stick to what Peter had suggested,' Caspian had chirped in, determined to be the peacemaker. 'And, Edmund, if it is so horrible for you, I will show this King over here out. You may take over his bed. How does that sound?' 

Edmund considered the proposal, mulling it over in his head for quite some time. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he agreed. Peter had smirked at his victory. He knew that as soon as the Prince opened his mouth, Edmund was a goner. No one, including himself, could resist his charms. 

"Getting Possessive, aren't we, _my love_?," questioned the boy who was sprawled out on the bed's comforter and sheets, limbs laying loosely. 

Without saying a word, and with eyes darkened to a deep shade of sapphire blue, Peter slunk to the edge of the bed, creeping toward the timber frame. Slowly, refusing to remove his predatory gaze, the King crept up Caspian's body, feet to head. Once near Caspian's face, he allowed both hands to rest adjacent to the other boy's head on either side, giving him both balance and the upper hand. Caspian, who could normally keep himself from becoming overly excited, began to sprout patches of pink along his caramel colored flesh. Peter would have smiled at this reveal, finding the look to be adorable on Caspian. But he couldn't now, not when there was a show to be presented and performed.

The Prince stammered, "Peter, what are you doing? There could be someone by the door."

"Shh, you make too much noise, pet," whispered the King, his voice fading to a sly rasp. "Well, not the noises that I want to hear, anyway. Or those that I want others walking by to pick up on."

"Darling," Caspian murmured, his hands going to Peter's chest, more so for the need of touch than of resistance. "This is not funny! Do you not realize what could happen should we-?" 

Speech was cut swiftly; greedy lips had concluded that it had been far too long for a much needed kiss. Peter was the first to melt wholly, though it was he who committed the act to begin with. One would think the culprit of any deed would be the least likely to cave first. Caspian was not far behind, however. Just like the other, he submitted to this perfect demonstration, this lovers kiss. But, it was he who was the perpetrator when the union was deepened, with tongue sliding inside a heated mouth. Peter released a moan of delight, his own silly tongue eager for more of a taste. The fingers along the front of the King's shirt knotted into its fabric, tightening their hold and grasp. 

Shuddering, the tanned boy sighed, "must you kiss me like that? You know how it leaves me breathless. It is not fair, really."

"Now you know how I feel everytime we touch, baby," breathed the eldest Pevensie, stealing one more kiss. 

Coming down from the physical high of being adored, Caspian said, "I love it when you call me that. It is so foreign, but I do like it. Please, do call me that always. We may even be able to make it catch on with the peoples of Narnia. Though, it may take some time. They will not understand that it is a term of love, rather than a name for a small child." 

Peter chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose with Caspian's, "you should not be talking. It took you several days before you understood to whom I was referring to. And yes, my dear, I will call you my 'baby' for as long as it will please you." 

"Though, first, before any names catch on," continued the blue eyed lad, "we should wait for the people's acceptance of the sort of thing. You know, us being together, as we are. Best not to startle them." 

"Startle them? How could us being together startle them more than they already are? They've just been through great change and times of war," questioned Caspian, who sat up some, his back now straight.

He continued, "now, yes, this form of love will definitely surprise them, but I do think it would be something they could learn to understand. And I do think they would try to. Especially since, well, you and I will be ruling side by side as leaders to Narnia. They would have to, at the very least, be of decent behavior toward us." 

Peter sat back on his thighs, his face wriggled with somber and sadness. Did Caspian really believe that a people, to whom had been set in their ways for more than a millennium, could change their opinion overnight just because two boys, two kings, said they were in love? His optimism on the subject, though cute as anything to Peter, was in some form terrifying. Caspian had no idea. His princely and polished life, had never come to know of others distaste for the uncommon, the acts deemed sinful. He held such darling hope that it almost made the blonde sick. 

Sensing the other's worries, Caspian took his hands and cupped Peter's face. Starting at the lips, he kissed all over the blonde's boyish arrangement. Everything; both cheeks and both eyelids, the tip of the nose, the curve of the chin, everything was kissed, eyebrows included. "Do not worry, my sweet boy," murmured the brunette, sealing his rainfall of touch with one last caress of Peter's mouth. "Everything will work itself out, you will see." 

"No, Caspian," the High King muttered faintly, crumbling into that final kiss so easily, "they would, they would never be so accepting. Don't you know that? Please tell me you do not actually believe that."

Caspian moved away from Peter in shock, somewhat horrified that what he had just said truly passed his lips. His brown eyes, delectable and dreamy, grew in dismay. "I do believe that, Peter. I think that everyone, even those who do not seem so, can change. They'll just need to be exposed to it, they'll need to see it in front of their own eyes. And from that, I am firm in my belief that they will come to accept our being together. It may take awhile, but with you and I on the throne-" 

With unexpected gruff, Peter cut in, "I won't be on the throne with you." 

"What?," Caspian said, his most intelligent response at hand. 

The eldest Pevensie rose from the bed, the springs and floorboards creaking in an ugly choir. Peter stood there for a moment, alternating between which foot he put his weight on, his gentle sway. Not being able to find the words, he paced around the room again, picking up random decorations and inspecting their details. He couldn't say what he knew he needed to. It would hurt him in all of his most fragile and breakable places. 

"I won't be ruling with you, baby," said he, turning to look out the window rather than his own lover. "I have to go back to England with Susan in the morning." 

Caspian sat up completely straight, his back was in perfect and proper alignment. "What do you mean you have to go back to England? I thought Aslan said otherwise," responded the boy. His legs shifted, due to his own rising emotions, over the edge of the bed, simply dangling. 

Peter coughed, shoving that crack back down his throat, "that was just for tonight. You heard him. He allowed us one more night, not..." 

"He can't do that. He has no right to do that, Peter," whimpered the brunette, taking advantage of his beloved's fade out of voice. "It is cruel, he knows that much."

"No," resumed Caspian, "I will speak with him due morning. He must see and know how ridiculous an offer of one night sounds. Especially, for the High King of all Narnia. One night is nothing. He must recognize that you, of all people, deserve to stay for longer. Your home is here. He cannot just send you away, away from me."

Sighing, Peter roamed his way to beside the Prince, taking a seat. Caspian pressed closer to the boy who sat beside himself. Sharing in body heat, they alike discovered a comfort. The High King took hold of the other's hand, further adding to this cozy sensation. 

Peter said, beginning slowly, "darling, I do not want this anymore than you do. The idea, that come tomorrow, I will be leaving, breaks my heart. _It kills me_. But, it would be such a pointless battle for you to fight with him otherwise. He has made his decision. I assume that what he said was in good judgment."

Yanking away his hand and standing up, Caspian strode away from Peter to the other side of the bedroom, specifically, near the window. Tears laid on his eyes and threatened to spill over. Roughly, using his fingertips, he wiped away their trace. "So, that is it then? You are just going to do what he says because he commands of it? You won't even fight to stay?," He growled, his voice quickly straining. 

"My love-" 

"No, Peter! I do not want to hear it! Not now, just don't," Caspian barked out. 

Taking in a deep breath, the boy of copper flesh leaned against the closest wall, using it as his support. Caspian stared up at the ceiling and continued his heavy breathing. Within a matter of seconds, everything he had ever known, the only person who he could say he deeply loved, was forsaking him. Loneliness would be his killer, this was sure to happen. How could he possibly go along with his life after this? After having known the Pevensies? After loving Peter? 

Huffing out, now allowing himself to cry, he said, "when I first met you in the forest, among the clashing of our swords, I felt something so deep, so true, that I almost lost consciousness. I did not want to admit it at first, but then, after getting to know you better, I could comfortably tell myself that I had fallen for you. I fell in love with you instantly. You are just so beautiful, those eyes, how could I not?" 

"I remember, after the attempt at taking my uncle's castle," recommenced the Prince, "after the encounter with the witch Jadis, I was contemplating on telling you of my feelings. Those events made me realize that our time together may be shorter than desired. That I may never have another chance, another moment, to tell.  It was with that, and the kind advice of my professor, that I felt confident enough to confess of my fondness for you." 

Caspian breathed in deeply, pausing only for an instant to clench back a sob. As he respired, tears graced down and embellished his skin in long, soaky streaks. He had thought that for one day's work, there had been enough crying and teardrops. His body seemed to insist differently. Almost as if it were in a fight against him. 

Peter spoke up, taking Caspian's break of voice as an open opportunity to get his words through. Standing, he began, "and I was so happy that you did, Caspian." 

"Truth be told, when you told me, I was a little surprised, well, a lot surprised, actually," he revealed, edging toward his shaken sweetheart. Carefully, he listened. Now noticing how quiet the inn suddenly got. Turning to the cedar framed window, Peter was greeted with a sun gone sky. Only hints of various deep purples and hardened blues indicated that light was once present. 

A tiny frown painted its way onto the High King's lips, his woes now becoming all the more facially noticeable. Had Caspian been looking at anything else besides the door, from which he had chosen to gaze at rather than the ceiling now, he, too, may have caught this. Most likely, the Prince would have done whatever was needed to remedy Peter's despair. And the King would gladly welcome his tenderness, arms wide open. Peter did not want to have drama with Caspian. Especially, seeing now, that their last hours together were growing lesser and lesser. 

Said the King, trying his best to mend the situation, "no one had ever said that they loved me before. Or, that they cared about me in the way that you did. Sure, it was quite sudden, but stranger things have happened. And, I knew that what you were saying to me was true, you weren't lying. I don't think anyone has ever been so honest with me."

"It was so easy to hear you say those things, it was so easy because I already loved you, Caspian," Peter uttered, taking his own turn to fully breakdown, the first for that day. He was growing desperate for Caspian. There wasn't much time left in the night. The two needed to be together, there was no other choice or option. This small spectacle had to be put to rest. 

Using the fabric of his shirt sleeve, Peter dabbed away his tears of hopelessness and heartache that dripped from his eyes. Peter was not supposed to be the emotional type; the King who expressed impassioned sentiments and cries. He was the intended master of all things strong and indomitable. Yet here stood the High King, the most magnificent in Narnia. Crying, all for a boy who in more ways than one, he was taught not to love. 

Mewling out, his voice on the cusp of waning, "I fell for you as soon as I saw you. It was like I found my other half and all things in the world now made sense. And when we attacked Miraz's castle, I was so frightened that I was going to lose you."

"The thought of you dying that night," Peter hushed, letting his tears fall freely now, himself now understanding why he was so upset upon the group's return to Aslan's How, and why he fought with Caspian in the first place about the failed takeover. "My God, and seeing that witch reach toward you, Caspian, I couldn't..."

Peter sighed, emotionally drained and ready to give in, and extended his hand, once in close proximity to Caspian, so that he could run his knuckle against the other's wettened cheek. Caspian jumped at the caress, even though he had already met his lover's misty gaze. The brunette turned his head sharply and swiftly in rude fashion, away from Peter. Prince Caspian held no desire to be soothed. 

"Caspian, please, I don't want to fight right now," beseeched the shorter boy, "I love you. Let's just go to bed and lay down. Let's be together."

Caspian scoffed, his face coloring to a lightened pink, "oh, yes, because you are leaving me in the morning. Best to use the time we have now. After all, there won't be any more after this night." 

"Baby, you're not being fair to me," stated Peter, fuming some as he watched the taller of the two stroll farther from him, specifically, to stand beside the bed. 

"And you are not being fair to me!," Caspian fought back, his voice splitting as he spoke, cracking. "You have the option to talk with Aslan about this. And yet, you choose to do nothing and accept. You are leaving me, alone, and are doing absolutely nothing in order to stay! You are abandoning me, Peter. If you truly loved me, you'd be doing anything to stay by my side!" 

Had it not been for his own strength, and knowledge of the hour and those who slept, Peter was sure a scream would have escaped him. Red hues housed themselves over his sun bathed flesh, his eyes gone rigid and hard. "Do you really think I want this? That I want to leave Narnia? That I want to leave you?," he hissed, body twitching from the intensity. 

"And how dare, how dare you say that to me!," Peter snarled out, "if you, yourself, loved me, you'd be understanding to my situation. You would want to be with me, instead of fighting with me over something that you, just as well as I, know that we have no control over!" 

Seething, the brown eyed youth ran a hand up his face and through his wavy locks. Peter was right, but, Caspian would like to think that he was just as so. Fighting was pointless, he knew that. But, he just could not stand losing the only person who made life worth living. Losing his soul mate, his gorgeous Peter Pevensie, was something that he would not bare. Caspian could not allow it. He was sure it would be his own ending; he needed Peter. 

He shot back, his mouth dropped to a scowl, "there is always another way. You, of all people, should know that. And Aslan does not understand everything! He may say that you have gathered all that you need from this land, but you and I alike know otherwise. He is a good and gentle spirit, but he does not know. He has no idea what a love like ours is like. He does not see what would happen, what would happen to me, should he send you away! You take his words, Peter, as if they are set law. But how can he make judgement on things he has never previously encountered? This is new and unheard of. You must show him that sometimes, that sometimes, even his good intentions are not always right!" 

"Yes, Caspian, let me go and do that. Let me go and fight with the one who has created all that we have ever known of this nation," grumbled the eldest Pevensie, sarcastic tone in full swing. "In case you have forgotten, my sweet prince, we would not even be here if it were not for him! So, yes, I take his word as if it were commanded law." 

Caspian sneered immediately, not allowing for Peter to finish, "so now you trust in his word. If I do recall, Lucy said that you have lost all faith in him. That is why you couldn't see him before, right, my love?" 

Peter turned away, eyes now boiling with frustration and sheer anger. Out of exhaustion, his eyes balled up in hot droplets, they tumbled down his face in quick succession. His hands fiddle with their respected fingers, while his back leaned against the wall that was previously homing his lover's body. If he stayed still, Peter could even feel the ghost of Caspian's warmth. It was a comforting presence. 

He said, all effort put in now since his voice had gone painfully raw, "what do you want me to say, Caspian? What do you want me to do?" 

In his own sign of defeat, Caspian sat on the plush bed. It squeaked from his added weight, and the sheets caved in from where he sat, bunching up. Letting his head fall in his hands, the Prince, Peter's beloved boy, wept. The sounds were not pretty, and Caspian did not try to hide anything that came from his mouth. His hands became slippery with his tears, and his cheeks were now dyed rosey from their tracks. Removing his palms, Caspian held himself, his arms wrapping around his own sleek frame. 

Even if he wanted, Peter couldn't look away from the sight that laid before him. In every way tragic, it was also beautiful and prepossessing. Whatever was left of his fragile heart, was now, completely broken. Steadily, with feet padding along the aged floorboards, Peter crept to the bed, sitting beside Caspian once he got there. 

"Caspian?," he asked in whisper, scooting close so their sides touched and no gap between them could fall. Building himself back up, and putting on a regal face, Peter did his best not to add to the sounds of sorrow. But seeing Caspian, his precious angel of a boy, cry as he did, did nothing to aid his attempts. 

Gently, he cooed, "baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. My love, I didn't mean to hurt you. Caspian, sweetheart..." 

With his shaking hand, he slipped behind the other's toned back and rubbed. Something of which, he learned over a period of time made Caspian feel a little more at ease. "My poor baby," he puffed out, letting his other palm rest on his lover's inner thigh, lightly massaging. "I'll talk to him, okay? I'll talk to him come morning. I'll talk with Aslan about everything. God, Caspian, I love you so much! I love you, baby. Please, please don't cry. Don't be upset anymore." 

Caspian gasped, taking in a large breath to his sore lungs. He shifted his weight and stance from the bed, so that he was now looking into Peter's blueberry tinted orbs. Without further word, and greatly enjoying his darling's touch, he lept into the King's arms. Twisting a grip around Peter's neck and upper body, Caspian tugged him close. For awhile, the brunette held him tight, counting and listening to his heartbeat. Soon, Caspian held Peter's face, and melted into his doting stare. Wetting his lips with his tongue, for they had gone dry, the Prince showered the other in delicate pecks and probes. 

Moving his own upper limbs around Caspian's waist, Peter, too, squeezed tightly. His own lips puckered out to catch one or two of his beloved's kisses that just so happened to make their way nearby. Tanned fingers, slithering from face to hair, yanked gently on the strands, Caspian's own rough touch. Peter groaned, not minding the roughness, especially if it meant more of his lover's sweet mouth was to come. That of which did, sneaky tongue, too. 

Peter sniffled, trying to catch his breath, moaning lightly as he was ravished. Leftover tears pooled across his face, the excess of his distress now gone. He gasped softly, ending in a delicious moan for Caspian, as said boy, nipped along Peter's neck, marking him fairly. Sluggishly, once satisfied with his artistic prints on Peter's skin, Caspian kissed back up his lover's countenance. Starting at the neck, kissing along the jaw, pecking a cheek, and loving the pouty lips, thoroughly unhurried. 

"I love you, too, my darling," hummed Caspian, "I love you, with my whole heart."

Stroking the High King's jaw with his thumb, he chirped, "thank you, thank you for all you have done for me. And, I am sorry, I should have never said those things. I am so, very sorry, my lover. Will you ever be able to forgive me? I will do anything, anything at all." 

Chuckles vibrated Peter's throat, his mouth quirking into an almost lost smile. With joy, he said, "just promise me you will always love me. Even when I may do something stupid. Which, may happen often."

Adding his own little bits of laughter, Caspian nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss. "I promise, but you must swear to me the same, my dear. For, I, do just as many stupid things." 

"I promise. I'll love you forever, Caspian. Even when death has decided my ending," added the blonde, stealing another caress of his sweetheart's lips. 

Caspian moaned, deepening the kiss, declaring his own undying love in the process. 

Somehow, with no outdoor lighting left, and only candles to navigate their way, once lit, both boys found their way to a light form of undress. Nothing of damning nature happened that night, at least, not to the knowledge of the inn's other residents. But when sunlight burst through the cotton curtains, Caspian and Peter were locked and knitted in close embrace. Both were ready for the day, ready for the fight. 

And though it has never been put to paper, there is an oral tradition that floats from the mouths of those in Narnia's boarders. It is a song. A song of which tells of two kings, who ruled along each other's side, til death stole them both; together. It was named simply:  

 _The Ballad Of Two Kings._  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
